The Loved and Unloved
by adrynnXadrenaline
Summary: I suppose this is MattxMello; but it's more the story of two boys that are basically brothers - best friends even - that could be falling for each other? Matt and Mello's pasts, and views of life and life at Wammy's : Enjoy
1. Chapter 1

Normally I would say that it goes without saying that one can never miss what one never had, but in fact, you can completely miss everything you never had and what you never knew you had. Whether you had it or not, you knew you should have, but when you realize that it was never there the emptiness of that missing "puzzle piece" can eat away at your soul. That is, if you believe you have a soul. There is always the possibility that you could also be an atheist and would therefore not believe in a higher power, or you might have at one point, but have long since forgotten it. Then you are left only with remnants of the past, for example, a rosary. Something that could have meant so much to you at one point, but then the true meaning slips away, fading with time. Scars and memories will fade too, yet it still remains. Hidden. Another thing, for example, one may acquire some cheap, inanimate object that they come to be so emotionally attached to, it becomes the one thing that can suppress the feeling that the certain emptiness and longing ensues.

- - -

My goggles fogged up, the tears causing condensation to form on the cool surface of the orange lenses. It was the first time I had thought about it in months. Thought about what? Well....

That whole once forgotten life. Or maybe it had never been forgotten, but merely suppressed so it seemed that I had no longer had a past. Only future.

That childhood, a home, loving parents. Maybe that belonged only in fairytales. Maybe it was just never meant for me. I am sure that you know what picturesque childhood I am talking about; there is no need for me to say more... Professionals always say that you grow up to be like your parents; the only thing that I wonder about – am I going to grow up like mine? How does the person I am now relate to them?

They were so carefree. So carefree that they never even thought about me from what I could tell. Sure, they provided me what I needed, but I was pretty sure that they were never my real parents. I just never felt that connection to them. It was not even just a fleeting suspicion. I was close to positive. I knew that there was something wrong. One day at home I was snooping around in my parents' closet while they were at work. I found nothing of interest there. But then, I moved up to our attic. It was there that I found what I think my story truly was.

I found pictures, letters, and goggles...

Pictures of my mother and. Lord, she was beautiful. Shimmering marble green eyes, long silky auburn hair, pale cream skin; a graceful, straight nose, a beautifully shaped mouth, and smiling eyes – a lean womanly torso, long regal legs. My definition of beauty, her. She was my mother. She was mine. Kaiya Jeevas. My mom.

My father... Tall, dark, muscular – I would suppose attractive as well. Maybe not. He was tall, well built; he had dark hair and dark eyes – well in contrast to Kaiya. My father. The strongest man I ever would have known. Saosin Jeevas.

Letters, lots of letters...

_"Mail,_

_Forgive us for leaving you like this... Something came up, we could not stay here. We left you here for your own good... Write us back, your "parents" will mail the letter to us..._

_Love,_

_Mom and Dad"_

_"Mail, honey, I'm sorry that you have not yet written us back. You must understand, we could not take you. We love you more than the sun, stars, and sky. You are our life. We are forever thinking of you._

_Love,_

_Mom and Dad"_

_"Mail,_

_I understand that you probably feel hurt and abandoned, but we truly regret ever having to leave you. We will come back for you as soon as we can. We love you._

_Love,_

_Mom and Dad"_

That was the last letter I never received from the both of them.

_"Mail,_

_I am coming for you in a few days. I am so sorry. I know that you are an extremely gifted child, so I do not understand why you would never write back. I know you can do it. I will see you in a few days – on your fifth birthday, honey. I am filled with chagrin. What kind of mother ever leaves her child?..._

_Mail, you must forgive me. It has broken my heart that I have sent you more than fifty letters, but you have never once replied. It simply tore out your father's heart... Your father, Saosin Jeevas, has perished. It was his long standing wish and everlasting hope to receive a letter from you, given we never really knew you..._

_See you soon, Mail,_

_Love,_

_Mom"_

She wanted me! She was going to come for me! Why did she not?

Apparently life was more complicated than I would have seen...

I walked back downstairs to my parents' room. I picked the lock on their filing cabinet. I found records, almost like a diary, written by my "mother" it claimed:

_"February 23rd.... Kaiya Jeevas arrived to come receive Mail... Our employer ordered us to lure her upstairs claiming Mail to be asleep... We stabbed her to death."_

She had come for me! My "parents" were murderers!

Why?

Why?

Why?

I had to run away. What if they were going to murder me too?

I returned to the attic to sift through the box's contents once more. I found some old sort of video game. The original Game Boy. It belonged to my father... I hurried down the stairs back to my room and stuffed almost everything in the box into a knapsack. I pulled the goggles onto my head, and shoved my feet into some Chuck Taylor's. I clomped down the stairs to my kitchen and pulled out a sleeve of graham crackers, a hunk of bread, some cheese, some chocolate, and some carrots and celery out from various places, putting them into my bag. I would need to eat for the duration of my voyage... I did not know where I was going or where I would stay, but I needed some simple necessities of life.

Before walked out the front door, I swiped my "parents'" money from their room – what was there anyway. I grabbed a clean toothbrush and toothpaste, and left.

I could not use public transportation for people would wonder what a boy of five was doing on his own. I would surely be returned back to those murderers. I decided that possibly a train station would be safe. I would travel as far as I needed to, to get away by train. It wounded like a good plan to me.

While waiting for the train, I pulled out my father's gaming device and began to play.

It was addictive.

I missed four trains before a serviceman asked me if I was waiting for someone. I told him that I was merely afraid to get on the train by myself; that I was going to visit my grandmother. My parents decided that I could go by myself. He helped me get on the next train.

I stayed on that train playing video games for hours, I only paused to eat a snack of cheese and bread. I was so hungry. I had not eaten since the night before. I was still worried about whether I made the correct decision in leaving or not. I shrugged it off and returned to my game.

Playing the game made me forget about the world around me. I lost the ability to recognize that there were other people around me; I concentrated extremely hard focusing all of my thoughts and energy on it. That is, until an older man got boarded. He sat down next to me.

He had whitish-gray hair, eyes hidden behind glasses, facial hair – the kind of person that almost reminded me of a pedophile – a creeper. This man though, he was different. He had a smile in his eyes, a lift that gave his face life and light. His eyes sparkled. He pulled his brown leather suitcase onto his lap, holding it on his freshly pressed, crisp brown suit. Upon his head was a brown hat as well.

I squirmed trying to hide in the corner of my seat.

"Hello there," the man said, turning to me.

"H...hello...." I whispered, shying away.

"What is your name?" he asked.

"Wh...who are you?" I asked.

"Hmm? My name? Watari."

"Watari..." I repeated.

"Yes, and yours?"

"M-Mail...." I lowered my head, my red hair falling forward, concealing my face in shadows. What if he was looking for me? Sent by my parents to come and fetch me.

"Mail... Mail Jeevas, perhaps?"

I hesitated. My fears were realities.

"Y-Yes..." my head hung.

"I have been looking for you." Watari smiled.

"Huh?"

"Have you run away from home?"

"Uhhuh..."

"You ran away from your mother?"

"No! I mean... I don't have a mother."

"Then you are exactly who I have been searching for."

"Oh... So you're taking me back there?"

"Heavens no! I am taking you to Wammy's house."

"W...Wh-where?"

"Wammy's house. An orphanage for gifted children."

"You aren't making me go back home?"

"No. Never. You must pass a test though. We need to know what we are working with."

"Oh. Okay." I looked up at Watari. I would not learn until later that my mother had arranged for this to happen...

"Dear boy, put that game away for now." Watari asked.

"Sure!" I stuffed it in my satchel.

"Good boy. You seem very bright."

I beamed.


	2. Chapter 2

There are always times in your life when you feel you must break the rules to save yourself or someone close you. Yet breaking the rules always has consequences. Karma. What goes around comes around. But then, why does it seem that some people have all the luck and others never get shit? Maybe if you were abused you would never even dream of the idea of karma. You would just accept the world as it is. You would not question it. You might assume that one is treated the same way as you, that it was the norm. Questioning it would be rather foolish. Others would get their jollies, laughing at you. You might feel pathetic, weak, and/or ignorant. Your choice.

I am none of those things, yet even as I was abused I still believed that one day my parents would get it. I never dreamed that the one closest to me would die in the process though. He broke the rules, defied fate, to save me. I should have died along side him and everyone else. Yet I did not. Was it karma finally coming around? If it was, it did not feel good. In fact, I nearly felt worse about the course of events.

Even still, you might want to cling to the past, it was the only thing you ever knew. Or, instead, you may loathe in and push it away. You might become a thespian. A wondrous actor, you might even develop somewhat of a large ego, or if nothing else, you might act arrogant to come across that you have your life put together and that nothing can harm you. That you are strong and that whatever challenges there may be lying ahead will be easy for you to overcome. You would be able to succeed your own predecessor; or at least show your twit of a rival that you are the best.

But that is not who you truly are. You would just never admit that in actuality maybe you are that weak, pathetic, ignorant brat. A fool. A stupid prat.

- - -

I glanced at myself in the mirror. Surveying myself for a moment. I fixed a lock of my golden hair. It must have gotten messed up when I stormed out of Roger's office earlier. Near and I had gotten into another disruptive argument, rather, I suppose I was just yelling at him and he just stared at me with his damn bug eyes... But then I beat up on another kid. Kaiba. Roger was not happy about that.

I was filled with chagrin for a moment as I thought about the look on Kaiba's face. Kaiba was my first friend here. Here at Wammy's. He understood what it was like...

I used to live with my mom, dad, and brother – Lorynn – in a small town. Lorynn was always the favorite, but he was my hero. He was an amazing person. He was the only one that cared about me too.

Verbal abuse, twenty times more effective than physical abuse to my mother and father. I was unwanted. A mistake they often told me. I just about believed it – Lorynn kept me from accepting it completely though. He told me that one day I would change the world. That it was a mistake for mom and dad to treat me the way they did.

But when they began with the mental abuse, Lorynn did not know what to say. He gave me the greatest treasure of all instead.

Rosary beads. Clear crystal and ruby beads. One, six, one, six, one six. There was a simple cross on the end of them, with a hollowed out cross within it. At night I would say my prayers, clutching them in my hand nearly choking myself every night.

Every night that is, until that nightmarish, grave day. It was funereal.

I lay in bed as I did every night, and listened to my parent's yelling. Presumably, they were having another argument about Lorynn. I wanted to resent him so much for him having all the appraisal and love every child should have, but I never could. Anyway, I lay there trying to make out their indistinct words, but could not.

Deciding that I could not sleep, I got out of bed and began to trudge to Lorynn's room. As I passed the top of the stairs, I heard a bloodcurdling scream, or maybe it was just an angry shout. I thought nothing of it as I made my way down the hall in my black fleece sweater and black sweatpants. When I opened Lorynn's door, it creaked loudly, but not loud enough for anyone but Lorynn to hear. I climbed into his bed.

"Hey Mihael." Lorynn shifted, moving closer to the wall. I rolled onto my side in front of him, I could feel his muscular chest on my back.

Inhale

Exhale

Inhale

Exhale

I snuggled closer into his chest. Lorynn rubbed my back comfortingly. He knew that I often could not sleep at night, he understood why. He always did.

I became drowsy, falling asleep nearly instantly, but then we heard the screams of bloody murder and the gunshots. Lorynn bolted upright in bed. Sitting cross-legged.

"Mihael, wait here. I'm going to see what's going on." He jogged out of the room. Almost immediately he ran back upstairs into his room. I was already half asleep again.

"Mihael! We have to go!" Lorynn whispered furiously.

I glanced at the clock groggily. "It's 2:30 in the morning Lorynn! Where are we going?"

Lorynn ignored my question and gathered me in his arms, he ran down the stairs as if it were a race. I had never seen him so panicked in my life. My face was buried in his chest, I was so sleepy. I pulled away looking around and saw my parents lying on the floor in agony. Pools of blood on the floor.

Where was the perpetrator? Who was it?

He was nowhere to be found.

My aunt and grandfather moaned and groaned. I hid my face in my hands once more. Their hands were severed – gone. Lorynn dashed toward the front door jumping over them frantic. I saw behind him his best friend holding a knife and gun and gasped. He followed behind us venom nearly shooting from his eyes. His glare was intent with purpose. He was going to kill us if it was the last thing he did.

I did not see him pull the trigger, I just heard Lorynn grimace as he fell to his knees and collapsed. "Go! Mihael! Run away. Run as far as you can. I love you. Don't worry about me. Just go!"

I felt a knife in my shoulder; Lorynn's friend threw it at me. I was destined to die as well! It stuck in my shoulder but I kept running, my breathing ragged and scared. I ran until I fell. I quickly jumped back up trying to jog, but could not even manage that. My lungs felt as though they were on fire...

When it was finally light out again, I made my way back to the scene of horrors. In my house, my mom remained. She was alive. Bleeding to death, not fast enough. She was beyond saving.

"Damn it Mihael! You let Lorynn die! You bastard!" she screamed. "You let Lorynn die! You should have died not him! You were such a god damn mistake! I can't believe it. Be useful for once!"

I stared wide eyed at my aunt and grandfather.

"Mihael! You dumb ass! Look at me when I talk to you!" she attempted to grope along the floor, dragging herself towards me. I twitched back.

"You worthless piece of shit! You are going to be useful for once! You weak, clueless bastard! Go the counter! Go! Fetch the largest knife! Right now!"

"A-Are you g-going to kill me?" my eyes filled with tears. Someone at the mere age of six and a half should not ever have to see this side of the world.

"Kill you? No! You will live with the guilt upon your shoulders. You let your family die! You're going to kill me damn it! Fetch the knife now! Now!" she growled.

I abided. I wanted her to shut up. I wanted to kill her. I wanted to. I grabbed the butchering utensil in my small fist. I did not try to kill her though. I wanted her to suffer the way I had. She deserved to feel the pain she inflicted upon me. I used the cleaver, slamming it down at her ankles. I almost felt a rush of relief as I marred her body. She howled in rage and in infinite pain. I was not going to kill her easily.

"How dare you Mihael! How dare you!" She could no longer even attempt to get up to follow me.

I drained oil from her car outside into a glass, and walked back into the house where she was sprawled across the floor, cursing at me. In a steady stream, I poured it over her body.

"What in the devil are you doing Mihael? Bloody hell! What are you doing?"

I stepped up onto the counter where I opened a cabinet containing matches. I struck one and held it to the curtains above the sink and lit another, dropping it onto my mother's body.

"Mihael! Mihael!" she cried out in bitter anguish, "Oh Mihael! Stop it! Put it out! Please!" she begged. How pathetic. I could not even find it in me to spit on her.

"I'm sorry Mihael! I.... I never should have treated you..." she began coughing and screaming. Smoke inhalation, the bitter fiery flames of hell licking at her skin and house. She could not get the words out, nor could I find pity for her.

I turned away and stalked out of the house, hopefully leaving the past behind me.

Minutes later reality struck, I had nowhere to go _and_ I was a murder. I should have died too. Why? I longed to run back and burn myself as well, but lost the will... I slept on a park bench that night, clutching Lorynn's rosary in my hand, screaming inside. Tears fell from my eyes, my head pounding. I stopped after a moment. What was I crying for? Had I suddenly become masochistic? Did I long for the pain and abuse? Yeah right. I smiled. I was free. I was—

"Are you a runaway?" a young, innocent looking boy inquired.

"Er me? No. My parents are dead." I nearly laughed.

"You're an orphan?" he repeated.

"Yes." I studied the boy. He was short, but taller than me with shaggy brown hair. It was a lighter honey color. It was nearly touching his shoulders in the back, but was not so long that it looked feminine. It looked rugged. It was parted far down to the right side, covering the left half of his face. He had eyes as clear and bright as the aquamarine color of the Caribbean seas. His face was thing, yet round with a pointed chin. It was sharp, but still soft. It made him look older, more mature.

Was he a "runaway" like me?

For a "runaway" his clothes were awfully clean and looked quite new. He wore a white collared jacket, dark blue skinny jeans, and a tight black t-shirt.

"Who're you?" I asked, anger and arrogance in my voice.

"Kaiba. And you?"

"Mihael." I lifted my chin slightly. I felt superior to this street rat.

"Huh. You need somewhere to stay?"

"No!" I had a look of disgust painted on my face.

"Sounds to me like you do." He was forceful. My cocky attitude did not even affect him. He sounded confident and demanding.

Maybe he saw through my charade. Could he see that this was a simple act so I would not look like a lost puppy?

"Seems to me that you don't understand that I don't need help."

"Oh, trust me, you do. Come back with me to Wammy's."

"What the hell is Wammy's?!"

Kaiba looked straight into my eyes for a moment, "An orphanage. I think that's were you need to be."

When he stared into my eyes, his penetrated my barrier. He could read me like a book. What choice did I have but to follow him blindly? What was he going to do to me?

Nothing.

I agreed to follow him...


	3. Chapter 3

Regret. One of the worst feelings in the world. It leaves you questioning what you had always known. It caused you to wonder whether your decision was the right one, or if it was just a big mistake. Falsehoods; rumors. Some things you do not know, but you still jump to a conclusion, you assume. I am not saying that there is never any validity to "rumors" but generally, there is little. There are such things as forged documents, therefore they mean nothing, but when you read it in a mental state near hysteria you are likely to believe whatever you see – at which point you may make one of the largest, most monumental decisions of your life. Later, perhaps you shall wish to return to that moment and change the chain of events. But. You. Just. Can. Not. In addition, not too long from now, chances are you will also ridicule someone for doing exactly what you have already done.

- - -

I would follow Watari anywhere. After we got off of the train, he promised me that I would never have to return to my "parents." He told me that he would make sure that I was always safe and that I could always be cared for. I could tell that Watari was a kind, honest person, and that I would always be protected if I remained under his care.

"W-Watari?" I nervously looked up at him.

"Yes, Mail?"

"Um... Never mind."

I may have changed my mind about outwardly asking him, but I desperately longed to know if my life would ever be the same. Would I grow up like a normal kid? Or would I be one of those anti-social, isolated hermits? Maybe I regretted leaving, just a little bit, but only because there is the possibility that no matter how vile the murderers I had lived with were, there was no proof that they would ever harm me.

About an hour later, we arrived at a large, cathedral like house.

Wammy's house.

It was large, with high steeples, stained glass windows, and a well cared for landscape. The perimeter of the establishment was surrounded by a wrought iron and brick fence. Shrubs and foliage covered the outer perimeter. The building itself was tan masonry, brick, and stone. Ivy entwined itself in the cracks between the stones, climbing up the trellises it grew on and almost to the roof. Weeping willows were lined on either side of the path leading up to what seemed to be a main entrance. The doors were high, and almost Gothic with a pointed arch at the top. Beside it, there was a complicated looking alarm and intercom system. Watari entered a long password and allowed his thumb and for fingered to be scanned, along with allowing his retina to be examined. We then proceeded into Wammy's house.

"Mail," Watari began, "you must change out of those clothes. They must be disposed of properly, your old guardians cannot find you. This is critical Mail."

I stood stupidly looking up at him.

He smiled down at me.

"Come along." He pulled me – well, I went willingly – down a corridor and brought me to what looked like a college dormitory room. On one of the beds lay numerous outfits: slim cut denim jeans; striped shirts in colors such as red, black, and white; warm looking coats and fur lined vests; boots and sneakers; a solid burgundy shirt; baggy jeans; just about anything you could imagine. I quickly snatched up the burgundy shirt and a pair of the light slim cut pants, and clutched them to my chest.

"You go change. The bathroom is over there." Watari gestured towards a door in the corner next to the bed opposite mine.

I stumbled in and pulled on the soft cotton shirt and the fresh jean. I padded out of the bathroom and back to Watari, handing him my old clothes. He bowed, "I must leave you for now, but I will be back. Feel free to put your other belongings away."

He then turned and left.

I rifled through my bag, putting my food in a drawer near my bed, along with my money. I then lounged on the bed, resting my head on my cloth bag. I fiddled with my father's game, playing it for a few minutes. Suddenly exhausted though, I fell asleep easily.

"Mail," someone shook my shoulder gently.

"Hmm?" I mumbled.

"Mail, you have to get up. It's time for you to take the test."

"Test? Oh. Right."

"Are you... Ready?"

"Sure. I guess..." I sat up and slipped onto the floor. "Where do you want me to go?"

"Follow me."

I shuffled along behind Watari, my head down.

"I am going to leave you with Roger, okay?"

"Roger... Yeah..."

Roger administered me a strange test. It was filled with reading apprehension, sciences and technology, mathematics, writing and literature, history, psychology, sociology, and numerous other advanced topics. I was easily able to complete the reading and sciences quickly and efficiently. Mathematics? No problem; I felt a bit shaky on some of the calculus and algebra – how did I even know how to approach and solve these problems anyway? Then the writing? A summary of what I had previously read and the other topics on the test thus far. History? It was not that bad. Finally, the psychology and sociology were... interesting. Either way, I could comprehend and answer the questions sufficiently enough.

I was finished, as Watari had promised, the test had not taken too long. I was sent back to my room to wait for the results. I flopped onto my bed the instant I entered. Leaning over the side, I slid open my drawer and pulled out the bread and cheese, and proceeded to eat it. I was starving. I wanted to have someone to talk to. I needed to talk to someone. I felt lost, as relieved as I felt to be away, I was still scared.


	4. Chapter 4

Friend: n. **1.** a person attached to another by affection or regard. **2.** a patron; supporter. **3.** a person who is not hostile.

But yet, are there not sociopaths – psychopaths? People without emotion, devoid of them, yet they can blend in with society perfectly. Could your best "friend" be one of those people? Does he, or she, even know what friendship is? Do they know what it is like to feel love, happiness, sadness... They can definitely feel anger... But do they feel for you what you feel for them? Or are they playing you? Using you? Are they merely acting? Putting up a fake front to get whatever they want or need.

Ponder a moment, who do you know that seems to care for no one but themselves. Do you know somebody like that? Are they simply selfish or self-absorbed, or are the sociopoathic?

What would you do if you suddenly realized that this was in fact a reality?

Would you play along with them? Or would you cut all of your ties with them?

Psychopathic or not, what if your friends were never really friends?

Frenemies? No. Not even that. Acquaintances? Or complete strangers. More than best friends? Unlikely, but more probable than not at all? I am note entirely sure. I am purely surmising here.

What type of person was Kaiba?

Is he the same person he was as he is now?

- - -

I followed Kaiba closely behind.

"We're getting on a bus." Kaiba said.

"A bus? Are you kidding me? Those are nasty. Public transportation with scumbags? Yeah. Right."

"You're getting on the bus or not coming at all. See if the police find you. They won't be as understanding about your families deaths. Even if you're a kid. So come or see what happens. Your choice." He stared me down. In his eyes, one could clearly see that he meant what he was saying. He looked as though he himself would throw me into jail or what not if I did not go along with him.

I bit my lip and looked shock and raced to catch up to Kaiba. I never listened to anyone, so why was I obeying this dumb shit? I never _really_ listened to anybody but Lorynn, and of course he was gone now. Did Kaiba have a bit of Lorynn in him? Did he have that same sort of pull, that leadership where there were no options; it was his way or the highway?

Apparently it was that way.

We got on a bus and rode for two stops, then got off at his command.

"Come on Mihael. It's getting late. I'll be in deep—" he paused a moment thinking over what he was saying. Should he be talking to a six year old like this? "I'll be in deep shit. As it is, I broke one of the biggest rules. Never leave the 'campus' under any circumstances without acceptable guidance such as Roger."

"Huh? What are you blathering on about?" I sneered at Kaiba.

Kaiba turned on the heel of his well worn boots. He caught the collar of my shirt in his fist and lifted me up single-handedly so that his eyes were nearly level with mine.

"You listen, and you listen well, punk. I don't take shit from others, nor do I harass others – but... You get in my way, you show me disrespect, I don't take it well. So you better think about every rash action you take around me. I'm a lot older than you kid, meaning, if you want things to stay calm and mellow between us, you better act at least four times your age little boy." He mocked me, sneering right back, "When we get to Wammy's, you'll find that I have that whole place wrapped around my damn finger. Think quick before you go and piss and moan to the others, 'oh, Kaiba bullied me... Kaiba threatened me...' they've heard it all, and they know. You think it'll change things? Hell no. The easily intimidated will not succeed. But me? I'm not the 'top dog' around here, but you will learn I'm not at the bottom. Got it?"

I gulped. If I wanted to keep things mellow?

...Mellow...

I nodded.

"And another thing, _Mihael_," he paused for dramatic effect, "after you take their test, you're going to have to change you're name. Something so that your identity will be protected, I should suppose."

"Change my name?"

"Yeah. In your case, you need it, having murdered your own mother..."

If I want things to stay mellow...

Mello.

"Mello."

"Mellow? What? We're cool kid. I was just warning you."

"No, Mello. That's my name then."

"Unh... Good. Nice. Mello. I like it. You'll fit right in kid, just follow my lead. I'll be like your big brother."

Big brother.

Lorynn.

"Okay."

I looked up and saw the slanted gray roof with the crucifixes on top; and the heavy, black iron fence, crossed at the top as well. The rolling green hills upon which the institute was set, with lush green grass against a clear sky... I could see colorful stained glass, through which the last few streams of sunlight flowed, causing a splendor of rainbow colors to refract onto the sidewalk through a prism effect. This was Wammy's House. One of the many orphanages established by, whom I would later find, Quillish Wammy. Watari.

Lorynn did not just go through the front gate like I had imagined; he stalked over to the stone part of the wall, and hoisted himself over it. I stared at him. Was I expected to do that?

"Come on Mihael... I mean Mello."

The wall was pretty high for a kid as small as me. Sure I was taller than your average six year old, but still.

"Do you need help?"

"No." I stated firmly. I was not going to look like some helpless child at this place. I was determined then and there to be the best. I was not talented enough to merely hoist myself over the wall like Kaiba, but I did manage to climb up using the ivy vines for support. When I landed on the ground, Kaiba studied me with slight admiration in his eyes.

"Good job kid." He patted the top of my head.

"Hey Kaiba...?"

"Yeah? What?"

"How... uh... hnm... How old are you?"

"Haha, that's what you want to know? You tensed up. Fourteen."

That was about the same age difference between me and Lorynn.

"Oh..."

"Cheer up kid. Look happy. You're going to have a home." He chuckled.

"Yeah... Okay." I smiled slightly.

Kaiba shoved his hands into his sleek jacket's pockets and walked up to the back entrance of the orphanage; or, at least one of the back entrances.

"Kaiba, where've you been?" some kid asked. He was slender and pretty tall. He had a mop of nearly white hair, his eyes a ghoulish green. He was clothed in an army green military vest, black jeans, and a gray t-shirt. "And what is that with you?"

"Out." Kaiba responded staring straight ahead.

"Heyy Kaiba, what's with this? You still pissed about this morning?"

Kaiba halted and turned on his heel. "No, Xane, we're cool."

"Well that's good, but seriously, where've you been? Roger ranted about you for like half an hour. It was hilarious. He was so mad that you 'disappeared' again." The blonde boy, I guess Xane, lauged.

Kaiba smiled, "did he really?"

"Hell yeah."

"Ha, that's great. Oh! Right, Xane, this is Mello."

Xane turned and looked down at me.

"Hey there kid. How's it going."

Kaiba looked like he wanted to punch Xane, "his whole family just died, Xane. He's new here. I found him."

Xane grimaced, "Ouch. I'm sorry kid."

"Don't be." I snapped.

His eyebrows shot up, "So you've got spunk, huh...? Kaiba, he's yours? You don't think you're going to have some issues with a kid with attitude?"

"I think I'm good. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must be seeing Roger to bring him this runt."

"Go on then. Sorry for interrupting you..." Xane mumbled.

I could see that Kaiba was shown respect. Xane clearly had a far less humble demeanor than he was displaying, but he was making sure to rein it in, in front of Kaiba. I really wanted to know what Kaiba's whole deal was.

"L... was looking for you by the way, Kaiba..." Xane added.

Kaiba's eyes almost lit up, "Great, thanks. I'll see him later."

Who is L?

"Kaiba, who's L?"

"Only the greatest and smartest person to have ever been at Wammy's house. He's like, the world's greatest detective... _And_, he's one of my pretty good friends."

"Right." We made our way down the painfully boring light olive colored walled hall. In down this specific corridor, doors lined the halls. I felt as though I was in a college dorm. Some of the doors hung open, others were locked shut. "Kaiba, where's your room?"

"Mine's down another hall. I don't suggest you try to find it. Some of us down there aren't that nice."

"Meaning you?"

"No. Meaning the older kids. Speaking of which, I have to get back down there. I sort of have to leave you here... Er, I'll catch up with you later? Because I have to see Roger anyhow... His office is straight down the hall to the right, and then his office is down the next left and the third door – also on the left."

"O-kay....?"

Kaiba ran down the hall. He was apparently preoccupied. With what? I was not sure. I nearly followed him, I felt like a lost puppy. Pathetic, foolish and ignorant. Some of my least favorite things. I continued down the hall for a moment then and saw an open door. I stumbled in; I would not find my way around this place. It was huge, like a palace. I looked around the pale, boring room. There were two beds. One was bare, the other was done up with a boy around my age sitting on it. He was engrossed in some sort of gaming device. I tripped over my own feet and fell onto the floor. Out of reflex, I stuck my hands out in front of me and landed on my palms on the rough floor. They stung.

"Ow..." muttered to myself, not so much because I was hurt, but because I was just distracted.

The silent gamer looked up from his game, staring at me.

"What are you staring at?" I snapped. Tears stung in my eyes.

"..."

"Damn it! Don't stare at me like that."

"...Okay... Sorry... I guess..."

He went back to his game.

"Hey! What are you doing?"

The kid ignored me.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you!"

He glanced up at me then back at his game, "..."

Tears of anger began running down my face rapidly, I was crying. Damn it! I never wanted to display weakness in front of everyone, especially not here. I did not want to look vulnerable here. I wanted to be able to order others around, not be ordered around.

"Are you... Okay...?" the kid queried. He set his game aside.

"Yeah. I'm fine." I spat, I was reeling with anger for everything that had happened today and every other day of my godforsaken life.

"Right..." he sighed. He laid down on his back and went back to his gaming.

"Do you have an issue?!" I snapped.

"No. But clearly _you_ do." He retorted. I was beyond mad.

"Excuse me?" I was just about sobbing.

I watched as he leaned over his bed and slid open his nightstand's drawer. He withdrew his hand after rummaging around for a moment, holding a silver rectangular shape.

"Here, take this." He held out the metallically wrapped bar.

I took it and tore the silver aluminum packaging open. It was chocolate.

"Er, thanks..." I said graciously. I viciously devoured the chocolate a couple of blocks at a time.

I took a good glance at the boy sitting on the bed. He had red hair and orange tinted goggles covering his eyes, he wore a long sleeved burgundy shirt and jeans. He seemed to be perfectly content to be sitting on the bed playing his game.

"What's your name?" I demanded.

"..." he turned his game off. "What's yours?"

"Mello."

"Huh. That's cool."

"I have your test results-" an older man with silver hair and a rough and angled face entered the room formally. A larger nose protruded from his face, with thin rimmed silver glasses lying upon them.

"Who are you?" the man looked at me.

I scoffed, "Who are you?"

The old man was taken aback, very few kids here probably showed him this level of disrespect.

"Roger."

This was the man Kaiba instructed me to find.

"Kaiba told me to find you." I informed him.

"Did he?"

"Yeah."

"Kaiba is back?"

"Duh."

Roger raised his eyebrows at me, filled with disdain.

"Are you new? Did he just find you?"

"Clearly."

"You're going to have to take a test."

"A test? What? Why? That's bull shit."

"If you want to stay here, you have to."

"Whatever."

"I presume that you are planning to."

"Yahuh..." I rolled my eyes and folded my arms across my chest.

Roger turned away from me, "I have your test results. You did extremely well, nearly perfect. No one thus far has scored as high as you... er..." he wanted to address the kid by his name. Did Roger not know?

"Matt..." the red head nodded at Roger knowingly, what did he know? I did not know...

"Well, Matt, you passed... And you..." he turned to me again, "you should come with me to take the test now."

"It's Mello to you. And well, let's get on with it then." I began to hurry out of the room; I turned slightly looking over my shoulder. "I'll see you later, Matt."

He lifted his chin at me slightly and rolled onto his side so he was facing the wall.

I shoved my hands into my pockets as I made my way down the hall, as if it were a runway, strutting along with some sort of major attitude. I arrived to an office, presumably Roger's, the one Kaiba had instructed me to find. Roger handed me a rather large testing packet.

I skimmed through the topics that would be covered. There was no need to think hard, these questions, though touching upon a plethora of diverse topics, were extremely easy. The test only took me a short time, about forty five minutes. I handed it to Roger with great confidence, almost arrogance. He looked over it then told me to wait outside his office for a couple minutes. Fifteen minutes later he came out.

"Mihael Keehl, I must inform you..."

How did he find out my name?

"You passed. You received the second highest score I have ever seen."

"Who's the first?"

"Near."


End file.
